


Coming Home

by eightbitbat



Series: Anywhere I lay my head [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Human Castiel, M/M, Post Episode: s08e23 Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 02:49:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eightbitbat/pseuds/eightbitbat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His goal had been to reach Dean, and here he was.  What was he supposed to do now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home

Once Dean met Castiel at the bus station in Lincoln, Nebraska, they got into the Impala and headed towards Lebanon.  Dean stopped before they left the city and grabbed them some burgers and sodas, promising him something homemade once they got back to the bunker. 

They drove in silence.  Castiel had plenty he wanted to say to Dean, but had no idea where to start, so he kept his mouth shut.  The silence was starting to become awkward, so Castiel picked up the box of cassette tapes from the floorboard.  He flipped through them idly, not expecting to recognize any of the band names.  He plucked one out and saw Dean look over at him.  Dean opened his mouth to say something, but closed it when Castiel put the tape, marked “Zep I”, into the tape deck.  Dean shrugged and turned up the volume a bit. 

After the fourth time Castiel’s jaw popped from yawning, Dean said “Dude, how long have you been awake?”

“I don’t know, Dean.  I haven’t been counting.  A few days?”

“Why don’t you get some sleep?  We still have a couple of hours before we get there.”  Castiel couldn’t really argue with him, so he leaned his head against the sun-warmed window and closed his eyes.

The next thing he knew, Dean was shaking him awake, hand hard on his shoulder.  “Cas, wake up.”

“Hm?”  It took him a second to get his bearings.  It seemed like a second ago he was deep in the water, full of writhing black…

“You were having a nightmare.”

Castiel’s heart was racing, and sweat had broken out on his forehead.  He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. “Do you think that will happen often?”

Dean sighed.  “Probably.  Welcome to humanity, where everything bad that you’ve done or that’s been done to you comes and finds you while you sleep.”  He gave a humorless laugh as he stopped the car.  “We’re here.” 

They got out of the car and made their way into the bunker.  Castiel dropped his coats onto a chair while Dean walked around, flipping on more lights. “You’ve been here before, so you don’t need the grand tour.  You want to eat first, shower, sleep, or what?”

Castiel considered.  All of them sounded necessary, but he felt grimy, and smelled like sweat and the bus.  “I think a shower first.”  He started down the hall towards the bathroom. 

As he turned the taps to start the hot water, Dean stuck his head in through the open door.  “The water pressure here is fan-freaking-tastic, man.  Let me get you some clean towels.”  Castiel nodded and started peeling off the sweaty, dirty clothes he’d been wearing for days (years).

He kicked everything into a pile and was turning to step into the shower when Dean walked back into the bathroom.  “Dude!”

Castiel turned to him.  Dean was holding some folded towels and looking at the ceiling.  Castiel looked up, too, but didn’t see anything to cause that sort of reaction.  “Yes, Dean?”

“You’re naked!”  Dean was blindly holding the towels out to him and flushing redder by the second.

“You…expected me to shower in my clothes?”

“Uh…no, man, but you left the door open.”

Castiel didn’t see why that was a problem, but took the proffered towels and set them on the counter.  Dean just stood there, eyes flicking between the ceiling and his face.  Castiel shook his head.  “Dean, if you’re uncomfortable, you can always leave the room.”  He turned and stepped into the shower, but he didn’t miss the sound of Dean backing into the doorframe as he tried to escape the bathroom.

As he stood under the water, Castiel wondered if hot water was going to surpass cheeseburgers and Dean Winchester on his list of favorite things.  The water poured over him, steam filling the air, and for the first time since he fell he started to feel clean.  He examined the various bottles that filled the small shelves within the shower, quickly figuring out which belonged to which brother based on their scent.  He liked Dean’s soap, but Sam’s shampoo.  He washed, and felt the scruff growing in on his face, but didn’t shave.  There were razors in the shower, but the thought of putting one near his face or neck made him think of what Metatron had done to him.  He wasn’t ready for that yet.

Reluctantly he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, grabbing one of the towels Dean had brought.  The bathroom (door now closed) was thick with steam.  He eyed his pile of clothes with distaste; the clothes were dirty and he didn’t want to put them on his now clean body.  Looking around the bathroom, he saw a grey bathrobe hanging on a hook behind the door.  He shrugged into it and tied the belt loosely, and then followed his nose and stomach down the hall to the kitchen.

Dean was at the stove, frying burgers in a skillet.  He glanced at Castiel as he entered the kitchen, and then did a double-take, looking him up and down.  Dean gestured at him with the greasy spatula.  “Dude.  You’re wearing my bathrobe.”

Castiel looked down and touched the grey fabric. “You seemed uncomfortable with me wearing nothing.”

Dean raised his eyebrows.  “Point.  Well, you can wear it for now, and while you eat I’ll dig up some clothes you can wear.  I can throw your suit in the wash, too.  Unless you don’t want to wear it anymore?”

Did he?  He’d worn that suit for years now.  Right now, he was too…overwhelmed to care.  He just wanted to make it through the next few days, whatever he wore in the meantime, or the future, didn’t really matter.  “I don’t know, Dean.  I’ll think about that later.”  Dean shrugged and went back to fixing the burgers. 

He sat Castiel down at the table and slid the plate in front of him.  “There you go.  Dean Winchester special.”  He looked at Castiel with an anxious expression while he picked up the burger and took a bite. It was amazing.  Cheeseburgers shot back up past hot water on his favorite things list.  He made a sound of appreciation that made Dean grin. 

“That’s what I’m talking about.  So much better than freaking drive-thru.  Okay, so Sammy is up at the hospital, and Kevin went over to keep him company while I got you.  I’m gonna head back up there.  Do you want to come with, or hang out here?”

“I think I’d like to stay here, perhaps sleep some more.”

“Okay.  You eat up, I’ll go find you some clothes.”

Dean disappeared down the hallway.  Castiel finished his burger and wandered down after him.  He opened the door to the room that Sam had put him up in the last time he was in the bunker.  It looked like it had another occupant, though.

“Yeah, Kevin’s still staying with us, he’s been bunking in there.”  Dean had appeared behind him with a stack of folded clothes in his arms. 

“That’s fine.  I will sleep on one of the couches.”

Dean frowned at him for a moment, and then shook his head.  “No way, man.  You need sleep.  There’s no way I’m letting you get your first real human sleep on a fucking couch. C’mere.”  He turned and walked down the hall, going into another room, Castiel trailing behind him.

The room they entered could only be Dean’s room.  No one else would have such a collection of classic rock records and weapons on display.  “You want me to sleep in your room?”

Dean shrugged.  “Yeah, sure.  I’m not using it right now.  I’ll get one of the other rooms cleaned out later. And dude, two words.  Memory.  Foam.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s a fricken dream, that’s what it is.”  He dumped the armful of clothes in the chair by the wall.  “Okay, you stay here, sleep, whatever, I’ll go see Sammy and get Kevin.”  Castiel nodded his understanding and Dean left him there.

He examined the pile of clothes Dean had left.  They had to be Dean’s, Sam was too tall and he didn’t think Dean would give him Kevin’s clothes to wear.  He also didn’t think the prophet owned a faded Def Leppard t-shirt.  Castiel took off the robe and pulled it on, along with a pair of worn jeans that were a little too long and a little too loose.  He crawled into Dean’s neatly-made bed and stared at the ceiling.

Now what?

Castiel’s goal had been to reach Dean, and here he was.  What was he supposed to do now? 

His newly-human feelings were crushing him like a weight.  He’d been able to stumble through the drive with Dean, showering, and eating without thinking too much, but now that he was alone, the emotions fought their way back to the front of his mind. 

He wasn’t a solider of God anymore.  Even if he had still been an angel, Castiel had been running from that path for a while now.  He knew that he would always want to help people, angel or not.  His need to help people was a fundamental part of him.  But how?  How could he even be anything but a burden to Dean and Sam?  He didn’t want to end up just a useless piece of former angel baggage. 

His brothers and sisters were out there, somewhere, and likely needed help.  Castiel wasn’t sure what he could offer them, and was fairly certain they wouldn’t accept it even if he could offer them something, considering his role in the whole affair.  He didn’t even want to start to think about Metatron. 

He rolled onto his side and covered his face with his hands, willing sleep to come and take him from these thoughts, even if it took him to nightmares.

 

* * *

 

Castiel woke, his head buried in the pillow and covered in blankets.  He pulled them off and was surprised to find Dean sitting in the chair against the wall, watching him.

“Dean?”

“Creepy, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“Someone watching you when you sleep.”

Castiel sat up and rubbed his face.  “I don’t really have a basis for comparison.  I’ve only slept a few times, and you’ve been there when I woke up almost every time.”

“Oh.”

“How long have you been here?”

Dean’s face flushed a little.  “Uh…not long.  C’mon, Sleeping Beauty.  You’ve been out for sixteen hours.  Let’s get you some food.  And dude, you should see your hair.”

Confused, he ran a hand through his hair, which felt like it was standing in all directions. “Sleeping…beauty?”

Dean rolled his eyes.  “From the movie, dammit.”  His face suddenly brightened.  “Cas, you can’t wing away on me anymore.  You know what I’m going to do to you?”

“What?”

“I am going to sit you down and make you watch every goddamn movie that I can think of.  You are finally going to get some of these damn references.”

“And we’ll start with this sleeping beauty?”

Dean laughed.  “Yeah, we can start with that.  But Cas.  This is important.”

“Yes Dean?”

“You cannot, under any circumstances, tell Sam I am showing you Disney movies.  Understand?”

Castiel climbed out of the bed and looked at Dean.  “Yes Dean, I understand.  Would you….”

“Would I what?”

“Would you make me more popcorn?”

Dean laughed and gestured for him to come with, throwing an arm around his shoulders as they walked down the hall. Castiel tugged up the waistband of his jeans.  He pushed away the larger ‘what now’ question for another time, focusing instead on the warm hand on his shoulder, the cool tiles under his bare feet, and the crinkles at the corners of Dean’s eyes as the man smiled at him.  That was enough ‘what now’ for him for the moment.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd be lying if I said the morning picture of Misha from JIB4 didn't inspire this mental image of Cas.


End file.
